


Waking Up at the End of the World

by roseclaw



Series: Slayer'verse [10]
Category: Bandom, HSM - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-18
Updated: 2010-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:40:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseclaw/pseuds/roseclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Destiny is the girl who sits behind Taylor in her English class, not something she has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Up at the End of the World

**Author's Note:**

> The “first” in the Taylor the Slayer ‘verse. For [](http://community.livejournal.com/hsmbigbang/profile)[**hsmbigbang**](http://community.livejournal.com/hsmbigbang/). Beta by [](http://saekokato.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://saekokato.livejournal.com/)**saekokato** , who’s super awesome. Title from “How Far We’ve Come” by Matchbox 20.

_**fic: Waking Up at the End of the World 1/2**_  
 **Fandom:** HSM, bandom  
 **Pairing:** Chad/Taylor, Bob/Frank  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Word Count:** 16,000 words  
 **Spoilers:** n/a  
 **Warnings:** a little bit of violence  
 **Author's Note:** The “first” in the Taylor the Slayer ‘verse. For [](http://community.livejournal.com/hsmbigbang/profile)[**hsmbigbang**](http://community.livejournal.com/hsmbigbang/). Beta by [](http://saekokato.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://saekokato.livejournal.com/)**saekokato** , who’s super awesome. Title from “How Far We’ve Come” by Matchbox 20.  
 **Disclaimer:** HSM is that of Ortega, and Bob, Frank and all persons associated belong to themselves.  
 **Summary:** Destiny is the girl who sits behind Taylor in her English class, not something she has.

  
Waking Up at the End of the World

  
There was a tiny man standing in front of Taylor. If leprechauns were real – and Italian – and covered in tattoos and wore Anthrax t-shirts, Taylor would have figured that was what he was. Okay, he wasn’t that tiny: he was Taylor’s height – but that was short for a man in his late twenties. And he stood between her and the books she wanted.

“Hi!” the tiny man said, beaming at her.

“Hi?” Taylor said – asked – back.

“I’m Frank.” His smile grew. He was friendly if nothing else – except for the part where he stood between Taylor and her books on a deserted level of the library on a day that Taylor not only didn’t sleep the night before but also on a day that was about one away from her period. She didn’t need any aggravation; her hormones would take it to unreasonable heights. An irony, as self-proclaimed Frank was tiny.

“Taylor,” she admitted.

“I know.” Frank still sounded excited, but now he sounded stalker-ish, too – and Taylor was even more aware of the fact that she was on a deserted level of the library.

“You’re in my way,” Taylor said carefully. She didn’t want to upset the crazy, but she wanted him very much _gone_.

“I know.” Taylor wanted to wipe that jovial smirk off Frank’s face.

“Then please move.” Taylor tried very hard to control her angry-hormones.

“You don’t need those books,” Frank said resolutely. “You have me!”

Taylor stared at him. “Really, please move,” she ordered flatly.

“Really,” Frank mocked, “you have me.”

Taylor crossed her arms across her chest. This was going to be a long battle if things continued that way. She changed tactics: “You don’t even know what books I’m looking for.”

“Yeah, I do. But what you’re looking for isn’t in any of those shitty books.”

“Which books?” Taylor asked petulantly, canting her hips to the side.

“ _Vampir_ , _The Vampire Handbook_ , _The Vampire Encyclopedia_ , and _The Encyclopedia of the Undead_ ,” Frank listed off. “Possibly _The Transitive Vampire_ \- if you’re desperate.”

Taylor gaped at him. “How did you know that?” She was half afraid of the answer.

“Those are the standards,” Frank responded with a shrug. “But they won’t help you understand your dreams.”

“Why do you think my _dreams_ led me here?” Taylor asked in a low, dangerous voice. Because her dreams had led her to the library.

“Because that’s how things work,” Frank explained. “Are we going to do this all damn day? Because I have things to do.”

“Sorry for taking time out of your busy schedule,” Taylor said sardonically.

“I could help you with your dreams,” Frank offered.

“Thank you for your offer,” Taylor said. “But I would like to be left alone.”

Frank’s smile dropped. “This isn’t something that will fucking leave you alone. You’re _the_ goddamned Vampire Slayer.”

Taylor’s mouth dropped open. “You _are_ nuts.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Like you haven’t been having dreams about pointy teeth and explosions of dust.”

“How do you know that?” Taylor demanded.

“Every Slayer has a Watcher,” Frank explained brightly. “I’m your Watcher.”

“Let me guess: a Watcher watches?” Taylor said dryly.

“You’re what? Sixteen? Too young for a beer. Well, I could, but I’ll buy you a coffee, and I’ll explain everything, including why you’re all of a sudden super strong and have better hearing.”

Taylor didn’t bother to ask Frank how he knew that, too.

“Make it über chocolately,” Taylor demanded. “And I’ll listen to your crazy.”

“Fuck yeah!” Frank enthused. “I’ll have Bob meet us at the nearest Starbucks.”

\- - -

Bob was the exact opposite of Frank. He was tall, blond, still, and quiet. He was also Taylor’s hero for denying Frank caffeine.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with Frank first,” Bob said, giving Frank a dark look. “But dealing with Frank is a lot better than dealing with everything else head-on. Even if it might not seem like it at first.”

Taylor glared into her mocha. It was too hot for her to drink yet, and she was upset with the temperature barrier. She was also upset that she had agreed to meet with these two men. Maybe she was suffering from the crazy as well. Maybe she had caught it from Frank and Bob.

“Bob was kinda forced into this,” Frank said.

“Like me?” Taylor grumbled.

“No,” Bob said. “I was cornered in an alley by two feuding vampire sects, both of them wanting to snack on me and my friend.”

“Frank?” Taylor found herself asking. If her mocha wasn’t so hot, she could have easily prevented the question physically.

“No,” Bob said. “Once you’re cool with vampires, I’ll tell you about how Frank and I met.”

Taylor didn’t like the sound of that. She was also sitting in a booth, facing two men, talking about vampires. She had seen this Afternoon Lifetime Special. She knew how it ended. They also hadn’t brought up vampire slaying yet, which was undoubtedly a euphemism for how to kill her and dump the body. Frank had a Jersey accent and was Italian: it didn’t take that great a leap of imagination to come up with mob ties. Bob had a Midwestern accent, though, which was kinda strange in connection with Frank’s Jersey. Maybe different factions of the mob were working together, and it somehow involved Taylor.

Taylor still hadn’t figured out how Bob factored into this. She wasn’t blind or stupid: she could tell he and Frank were sleeping together. But she wasn’t clear as to what that had to do with that crazy leap to _vampires_.

She figured the mention of vampire slaying was coming up. She should have turned around in the library instead of engaging Frank.

“I’m never going to be cool with vampires,” Taylor said icily.

“Don’t say that,” Frank admonished.

“How about if we prove the vampire thing to you and go from there?” Bob asked.

Taylor found herself nodding. She curled her hands around the Styrofoam cup of mocha.

“It took me a while to wrap my brain around it,” Bob said. “Don’t worry about Frank.”

“It didn’t take me a while to wrap my head around it,” Frank said.

“How long have you known Gerard?” Bob asked wryly. Taylor figured it was an inside joke.

Frank hummed in response.

Taylor knew that she should just walk out – take her mocha and run away. But if Frank had tracked her down to the library, he probably knew where she lived. That was something Taylor really didn’t want to think about. If Frank knew where she lived and where to find her, who knew what else Frank had on her. What if he went to her friends next? Or her parents?

“Should we start in the cemetery?” Bob asked Frank.

“A cemetery?” Taylor asked incredulously. “Hell no. We’re going someplace well lit and well populated.”

Frank shrugged. “You heard the lady.”

“And where do you propose we go?” Bob asked Frank darkly.

“That dance club,” Frank said with a nod. “The one that had that shitty band last night.”

“Zinc?” Taylor asked. “It’s lacking one of my two requirements.” She immediately chided herself for saying that much.

She took a long sip of her still too hot mocha to keep her mouth out of commission. The only thing it did was burn her tongue, because she found herself saying, “I still don’t understand what this craziness has to do with me.”

Bob frowned at Frank. “You didn’t tell her about the Slayer?”

“I did,” Frank insisted. “I totally did. I even said I was her Watcher!”

“My English teacher, Ms. Darbus,” Taylor said, “would fail you for your lack of detailed explanations. And probably for your tattoos as well.”

“Sounds like a charmer,” Frank drawled.

Taylor raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Bob looked to Frank expectantly.

“What?” Frank said. “You want to me recite what the damn WC gave me?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Taylor said. “While you’re at it you can explain what a WC is, and it better not stand for ‘water closet.’”

Frank giggled. “This is going to be a fun assignment, Bob!” He pawed at Bob’s shoulder.

Bob swatted Frank’s hand away. “Recite it for her.”

Frank sighed and said, “In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer.” It was the blandest statement ever. There was not even a hint of emotion behind it. Based on what Taylor had witnessed from Frank in the past half hour, nothing about Frank was devoid of emotion.

“There,” Frank said petulantly. “I said it.”

“So it’s not just vampires?” Taylor asked. “There are demons and other forces of darkness? And why is there only one Slayer? I’m assuming if there is such a thing as vampires, they wouldn’t all be in reach of someone who would _kill_ them, and one person cannot possibly be all over the world at one time. How is a Slayer chosen? I doubt whoever came up with that drivel knew a damn thing about girls. Why must it be a girl? And what’s their definition of a generation? You also never answered my question about the WC, either. Or is being cryptic your job, too?”

Frank stared at Taylor.

Bob looked like he was holding in laughter.

“Well?” Taylor prompted.

Frank’s face split into a grin. “I like you. I’m going to turn you into the longest living Slayer ever!”

Taylor narrowed her eyes. “The explanations I asked for?”

Frank took a deep breath. “Okay. One question at a time. No, it’s not just vampires, but we’re going to deal with them first because the clean-up is easiest.” Frank looked to Bob before continuing. “I have no clue why there’s only one Slayer. It’s probably from way back when there were few people and fewer vampires.”

Taylor nodded tersely. She wondered if she should be taking notes. This was probably important information, but seriously? If it really did apply to her, she could always ask again. But she doubted that it applied to anything outside of fantasy novels and those B-rated horror films Chad liked to watch.

“There are vampires all over the world,” Frank said. “Just like people. Slayers are chosen all over the world, not just in New Mexico. The WC is in charge of figuring out where the new Slayer is.”

“WC is the Watcher’s Council,” Bob said. “They’re also in charge of sending out a Watcher to train the Slayer, which is why Frank is here.”

“So it’s Frank’s job, hypothetically, because I still don’t believe a single word you say, to keep a Slayer – me – alive?” Taylor asked.

“Yup,” Frank said with a pop. “And if you didn’t believe a single word, you wouldn’t still be here.”

Taylor scrunched up her face in distaste, but she knew Frank was right. The caffeine was also starting to take effect, and it cleared away the fuzz that had accumulated in Taylor’s mind from over a week of poor sleep, and she could finally, albeit momentarily, think cogently.

“Slayer’s lives are short,” Bob said, gaining Taylor’s immediate and undivided attention. She wasn’t sure if Bob was warning her or threatening her.

“How short?” Taylor dared with a glare.

“About a year or two after they become Slayers,” Frank said. “That’s an average. Some last a few months and others can last years.”

Taylor searched Frank’s face for some sort of tell, something that would prove that he was making all this shit up and that Taylor’s dreams were really a product of studying too hard and spending too much time in the chem lab. Either Frank had an amazing poker face, or he truly believed everything he told her.

“In order to make you the best and longest lived Slayer ever, we’re going to need to train you,” Frank said. “Without training everything would – it wouldn’t be pretty.”

“Or,” Taylor said. “I can go home and pretend none of this ever happened.”

“That’s not an option,” Frank said. “If the WC knows you’re a Slayer, think about what the vamps know.”

“There’s no such thing as vampires,” Taylor said. She then took what was left of her mocha and stalked out the door.

\- - -

Chad was trying his hardest to engage Taylor in conversation. He had stopped talking about basketball and Troy, and he talked about… Taylor had no idea what. She was paying attention to Frank.

Taylor and Chad had taken their lunch outside to enjoy the day and each other’s company. Also, Taylor had a massive headache from listening to every sound magnified. In high school, there were a lot of sounds. Taylor thanked the administration for their open campus rules.

They sat perched on the front stairs, and Frank sat across the parking lot sitting on a low wall. Taylor couldn’t see Bob, but she could feel that he was watching her, too. She wished the administration would do a better job keeping strangers off campus.

“Let’s go back inside,” Taylor said

“Um…” Chad said. “We just came outside.”

“I know, but it’s too bright out here,” she lied.

“Do you want to borrow my sunglasses?” he asked.

“No, Chad. It’s okay, let’s just go back inside.” She stood up, dusted off her capris, and tugged Chad up with a little more force than she intended.

Chad staggered up, giving Taylor a confused look as she scooped up her lunch tray and breezed inside. He then chased after her.

“Tay! Taylor!” Chad called after her. He then muttered, “What the hell is wrong with her?”

Taylor shoved that out of her head. There was no room in her brain for her to acknowledge that she had heard Chad mutter when he was on the other end of the hallway.

“Taylor McKessie to the office,” the PA system announced. “Taylor McKessie to the office.”

Taylor felt her eyes go wide. There was no way that was a coincidence. Not a snowball’s chance. She knew she wasn’t in trouble: there was no way that’s what it was. She hadn’t forgotten a project at home. She was meticulous about that: her mother would never have dropped something off at the school for her. Her mother worked long hours at U of A on her newest project, and her father was always at his law firm.

With great trepidation, Taylor went to the office. She barely noticed Chad trailing after her like a lost puppy.

“Miss McKessie?” the secretary asked.

Taylor nodded.

“A man dropped this off for you, said he knew you,” the secretary said. She presented Taylor with a box and a note.

“Was he blond and tall or brunette and short?” Taylor asked.

“Blond,” the secretary said.

“Did he say what it was?” Taylor asked.

“No,” the secretary said. “He said it was for your overdue project, though.”

Taylor seethed silently. Bob had single-handedly destroyed her academic reputation. Taylor _never_ handed in a project late. Never.

“Thanks,” Taylor grumbled as she opened the note, reading it on her way out of the office. She almost bumped into Chad.

“Whoa,” he said, steadying her. “What’s in the box?”

“I – I’m not sure,” Taylor said.

“Well, open it,” Chad said eagerly.

“I’d rather not,” Taylor said wryly.

“Why not?” Chad asked.

“Because I don’t trust the person who dropped it off,” Taylor found herself saying.

“Who dropped it off?” Chad asked.

“You don’t know him,” Taylor said evasively. “I’m going to shove this in my locker. Why don’t you meet me back in the caf?” She gave Chad a sweet smile.

“Sure,” Chad agreed.

Taylor started in the direction of her locker as Chad wandered back to the cafeteria. However, as soon as Chad rounded a corner, Taylor checked the box. The note had said, _You’ll need this later._

Inside the box were a sharp, pointed stick, a vial of water, and a gold cross necklace.

Taylor swelled with anger. She immediately stormed from the school and over to where Frank still sat on the wall. Bob stood impassively behind him with his arms crossed.

“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, shoving the box into Frank’s chest. Frank nearly lost his balance and almost fell backwards, Taylor noted with satisfaction.

“They’re to keep you safe,” Bob said.

“I stay safe by staying away from strangers,” Taylor said crossly. “So get out of my life!”

She turned on her heel and marched back across the parking lot.

“That didn’t go well,” Frank muttered. He was on the other side of the parking lot, and Taylor could still hear him. It freaked her out.

“You do realize she can hear you,” Bob said.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Frank grumbled. “I’ve dealt with some pretty nasty demons. Teenaged girls are worse, and intelligent teenaged girls are even worse.”

Bob laughed lightly as Taylor finally entered the school.

\- - -

Taylor avoided Chad the rest of the day. She knew it was a horrible thing to do, but she didn’t want to talk about the box.

She narrowly avoided Gabriella in her haste to leave the school. Taylor had been thinking about how she never checked out her books the night before.

Taylor was halfway to the library when she received a text from Gabriella: _you left in a hurry._

Taylor sighed, but she didn’t text Gabriella back until she reached the library. _I need to do some research before I forget._

She left a message on the answering machine at her house to let her parents know where she was, and then she turned off her phone.

No one prevented her from taking the books off the shelves this time around, and she took them to a study room and locked herself in it, and she locked the sounds out of it.

It was relaxing to delve headfirst into a research project. It was systematic and fulfilling. It was the natural order of things.

She had chewed her way through two of her five books before the library gave a five minutes ‘til closing announcement. She had filled half a notebook of any phrase or idea that could possibly explain her dreams.

She shoved her notebook into her bag. She took the five books up to the reference desk.

“I’ll take these three,” Taylor said, separating her books into two piles. “And these go back to you.”

“These aren’t your usual books,” the clerk commented.

“It’s for a new school project about exploring the mythology around supernatural creatures. Vampires, werewolves, demons, that sort of thing,” Taylor lied. She wasn’t comfortable with the amount of lying she had been doing. “I drew vampires.”

“When’s it due?” the clerk asked.

“Next month,” Taylor said vaguely.

“You’re something,” the clerk said. “I bet most of your peers jump on the internet the night before it’s due.”

“Undoubtedly,” Taylor said dryly.

Taylor’s stomach gave a violent twist, reminding her that she skipped dinner and most of her lunch. She’d make sure to stop at a deli on the way to the bus stop.

“Thanks,” Taylor said, shoving her books into her messenger bag. She gave the clerk a smile and headed out.

The moment she stepped outside and into the cool, desert air, she could feel eyes on her. Taylor revised her plans. She’d catch a bus and eat at home.

The bus stop was deserted. Of course it was deserted. Taylor’s life had turned into an Afternoon Lifetime Special. She wanted out of it. She wanted to go back to a month ago when her life was like a Disney Made-For-Television Movie. Although, at this point, Taylor’s life had left the zone of Lifetime Special and had entered Slasher Movie territory.

And the next bus wouldn’t come for at least ten minutes.

Taylor sat down on the bench under the bus pavilion and put her bag down next to her.

She turned on her phone to see who had tried to contact her. She had five texts from Chad, three from Gabriella, and a call from both her parents wondering where she was.

Taylor called her parents first to let them know that she was on her way home from the library. She decided to call her friends once she was on the bus.

She heard something over the sound of the city. She could tune out the sounds of the city as white noise. She wasn’t sure what she could hear that was out of place, but she could feel eyes on her again. She assumed that Frank and Bob were stalking her again.

A quick scan of her surroundings yielded nothing. Taylor’s night vision was poor in the flood of light from directly above her. She couldn’t see into the alleys. She couldn’t even tell which direction the stares were coming from. It made her anxious, and she became a little paranoid.

Maybe it wasn’t Frank and Bob, maybe it was a murderer or a rapist or some other nasty person.

Maybe Taylor had an overactive imagination.

And maybe she had a brief flash of her dream the night before. She stuffed the image of jagged teeth and explosions of dust into the back of her brain.

She definitely had an overactive imagination. She just wished that it gave her some variety. The books she had spent the afternoon absorbing probably didn’t help matters.

And she couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on her. She wished the bus would hurry up.

She pulled her cell phone back out of her bag to check the time, and when she looked up, a man stood much to close to her, looking down. He had much too crooked a smile, and his overhanging forehead cast a shadow over his eyes.

He didn’t sit down next to Taylor; he just stood there, watching her creepily.

“Slayer,” he hissed.

Taylor frowned at him. “I don’t know what – ”

The man was on her before she had a chance to even blink. He had her pressed up against the wall of the bus pavilion, his hand around her throat, and her toes barely scrapped against the ground. Taylor desperately tried to remember any of her self-defense class, except her mind slid blank when the man exposed his yellowed fangs and growled in her face.

Flashes from her dreams flooded Taylor’s mind, black spots flew around her peripheral vision as she lost oxygen, and she felt something pointed against her chest.

The man slid off of her and onto the ground, which Taylor’s feet made full contact with as well.

The man had an arrow sticking out of his chest. And then he exploded in a cloud of dust.

Taylor gaped down at the pile of dust where the man once stood. She then looked up to see Frank holding a crossbow and looking very grim. Bob stood behind him with the same expression.

She looked down at her blouse. There was a hole in it where the arrow had pierced.

“You could have skewered me!” Taylor yelled indignantly.

Frank snorted but continued to look stern. “I’m too damn good to hit the bystander.”

“ _Excuse_ me!” Taylor said with a lot of attitude. She felt that the situation merited it. Of course, she had no idea what to say afterward.

Frank raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue.

“What is going on?!” Taylor finally demanded.

“Vampires have figured out you’re the Slayer,” Bob said.

Taylor took a deep breath. A man had tried to hurt her; he was then shot with an arrow from a crossbow and had exploded at her feet. It was a bit much to take in.

“And we won’t always be there to help you out,” Frank added.

Taylor knew responsibility, especially when it exploded at her feet after nearly choking her.

“That was a vampire?” she asked slowly.

“Duh,” Frank said as he retrieved his arrow. “You can tell because he exploded.”

“Vampires… explode,” Taylor said carefully. It explained so much about her dreams, but she hadn’t read about it in either of the books she had read that afternoon.

“Right,” Frank said. He turned to Bob. “Do you think she’s in shock or something?”

Bob shook his head. “No. She’s calculating.”

“At least she’s intelligent,” Frank said. “If she were an airhead, I’d probably let the vamp take her.”

“Hey!” Taylor protested as Bob said, “No, you wouldn’t.”

“It would be just like the WC to send me an airheaded Slayer,” Frank grumbled.

“They didn’t,” Bob said. “Let’s take this conversation someplace else.”

“Let’s take her home,” Frank said.

“No,” Taylor said stubbornly.

“Jesus,” Frank said with a roll of his eyes. “If I wanted to kill you, the bolt would have gone through you as well as the vamp.”

“I’m going home,” Taylor declared. The bus would come soon enough.

“Nah,” Frank said. “I think you want answers more than anything.”

“I want answers that make sense!” Taylor retorted.

Frank dug in his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “Call anyone in my contacts and ask anything you like.”

“Beware of how they greet you,” Bob said dryly.

Taylor eyed Frank suspiciously but grabbed his cell phone. She scrolled down his contacts list. Unfortunately, everyone had a codename. She decided to call “sprinkles” for answers.

“I’m busy, Frank,” a man growled impatiently into the phone.

“This isn’t Frank,” Taylor said tightly.

“Who the fuck is this?” the man demanded. “And why the fuck do you have Frank’s phone?” The man paused, and then quietly asked, “Is he dead?”

“What?” Taylor exclaimed. “No, he’s right here.”

“Okay,” the man said. “You still haven’t said who the fuck you are.”

“My name is Taylor McKessie,” she said. “Frank has been stalking me and saying outlandish things about… just outlandish things.”

“Oh,” the man said. “You mean vampires?”

Taylor tried not to choke on the breath she just drew. “Among other things.”

“Are you the Slayer?” the man asked. He sounded so casual about it, too.

“There’s – I’m not – what is going on?” she asked.

“Look, kid,” the man said. “If you let logic take over, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Vampires exist. And there are a lot of things out there that are nastier than vampires. Let them train you. They’ll help you learn to stay alive.”

Taylor made a strangled choking noise.

“Is Bob there?” the man asked.

“Uh-huh,” Taylor said quietly.

“Put him on,” the man said.

Taylor handed the phone to Bob.

“Yeah?” Bob asked. “She called you, Cupcake? Huh.”

Taylor didn’t call anyone ‘cupcake.’ She frowned.

“Yeah,” Bob said. “Denial thing’s going on pretty strong, too. No, not as bad as – Right. Just think of all the fun you’re missing…. Right in front of her. And she’s wearing that skirt. Yeah, that one. I’d use Ray’s ax – Yeah, yeah, I’ll let you get back to – That is way too much information, Schechter.”

Bob handed Frank back his phone and looked to Taylor expectantly.

“Was that sufficient or do you want to contact another person at random?” Frank asked.

“Uh,” Taylor said. At the very least, if… She couldn’t think of a single rationalization for going with Frank and Bob except that maybe they’ll finally stop stalking her. “Fine.”

\- - -

Bob and Frank drove Taylor to a split-level duplex outside of town.

“No one lives in the other half,” Frank explained, which didn’t exactly sit well with Taylor. “And we have the bigger half.”

Taylor gave Frank a pained look.

They didn’t invite her in; they just stood there and waited for her to go inside.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she demanded.

“Rule number one for vampires,” Frank said. “Actually, no, it’s more like rule number four or something. Vampires can’t enter a home without being invited.”

“You think I’m a vampire?” Taylor said wryly.

Frank crossed his arms and looked expectant. Bob had his lips pursed together as he watched.

Taylor rolled her eyes and stepped over the threshold. “There. I’m not a vampire.”

Frank nodded satisfactorily, and he and Bob followed Taylor into their house.

Taylor stood in the middle of the living area and waited for something to happen. Her stomach growled loudly, much to her embarrassment.

She gave Bob and Frank a sheepish expression.

“Okay,” Frank said. “First up: food.” He looked to Bob. “Be a good, manly provider and provide.”

Bob narrowed his eyes but stalked the three feet into the kitchen to yank open the refrigerator.

“We have leftover Chinese or leftover Italian. Or would you rather I go out and hunt down an antelope?”

“We don’t have Italian,” Frank said.

Bob scowled and dumped a Styrofoam container into the trash.

“We just have Chinese,” Bob announced. “And a lot of raw vegetables. And tofu.”

“What’s the Chinese?” Taylor asked.

Bob squinted at it. “Chicken and vegetables.”

“I’ll have the Chinese,” Taylor said. She hoped it didn’t kill her. Although it seemed unlikely at this point that Frank or Bob would go through the trouble of poisoning her. As they said, there had been plenty of chances for them to kill her.

Bob gave her a fork and put the plastic container in the microwave.

“Well,” Bob said to Frank. “Aren’t you being paid to be a Watcher?”

Frank humphed, but he sat down at the kitchen table and motioned for Taylor to do the same. She did, leaning her bag against a table leg.

The microwave beeped, and Bob grabbed her chicken and vegetables and handed them off to her.

Taylor didn’t bother to be polite, she just dug right in to the food. She was _hungry_.

As she shoveled food into her mouth, Frank explained.

“Vampires,” Frank said. He then looked to Bob.

Bob looked back solemnly and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Vampires,” Frank repeated. “Are nasty. All the vamp mythology is pretty true. Except the ridiculous shit. You’ve seen their overhanging forehead and fangs. That’s only out when they’re pissed. They can look perfectly normal if they want to. Except you need to be able to know the difference between a human and a vamp.”

Taylor gave Frank a bland look as she paused between bites.

“They drink blood. They’re soulless demons. Holy water burns them. Sunlight burns them. Religious paraphernalia burns them. They’re disgustingly strong. A wooden stake through the heart dusts them. I’m not sure about the garlic thing, though. I’ve never tried it personally.” Frank looked to Bob again.

“I haven’t done anything with vamps and garlic either,” Bob said.

“Although, the best way to learn is to be out in the field,” Frank said. “To do it yourself.”

That made sense to Taylor, even if the context was way too far off the base of reality. She always learned a concept in chemistry better after the lab.

“We’d be there to back you up,” Bob assured her.

Taylor wasn’t sure if that was really an assurance.

“But before you go out in the field,” Frank said. “You need to learn hand-to-hand.”

“Fighting?” Taylor asked. “I don’t fight physically.”

“That’s gonna change,” Frank said. “If we hadn’t been there tonight, you’d be dead.”

“So I should thank you for stalking me?” Taylor snapped.

Frank gave her a wide-eyed innocent look that completely belied every single impression Taylor had of him.

She was about to comment, when he lunged at her, aiming for her side. Before she knew what she was doing, she brandished her fork and had it poised just below Frank’s heart, angled up so it would penetrate underneath the ribcage. In fact, it _would_ have penetrated Frank if Bob hadn’t seized her wrist firmly in his giant hand.

“ _What_ was _that_?” Taylor demanded. She yanked her hand out of Bob’s grip.

“That,” Frank said proudly. “Was your natural Slayer ability. Maybe you wouldn’t have been dead tonight.”

Taylor may have growled a bit. Under her breath.

“Clearly you do fight,” Bob said. “And I’d thank you for not killing Frank just yet.”

“Yet?” Frank asked. “I’m wounded.”

“I should have let her shank you with her fork for that provider comment you made earlier,” Bob told him.

Frank waved him off.

“Taylor,” Bob said. And Taylor realized this was the first time either of them had addressed her with her actual name. She took notice. “This will save your life.”

“I’ve been told I was going to die soon anyway,” Taylor said flatly.

“Okay,” Bob said in a very determined tone. “Downstairs.”

Taylor narrowed her eyes.

Frank rolled his. “It’s the gym.”

Taylor eyed Bob, calculating exactly what he expected of her. He ushered her down to the basement and away from her food.

Taylor’s phone rang. She broke away from Bob and raced to her bag to grab her phone.

It was her home number.

She took a deep breath and flipped her phone open.

“Hi,” she said resignedly.

“The bus came, and you weren’t on it,” her father said.

“I know,” Taylor said. “I’m – at a friend’s house.” She was seriously unhappy with all the lying she had been doing. “I’ll be home soon.”

“It’s a school night,” her father needlessly reminded her.

“I know it’s a school night,” she said, looking pointedly at Frank and Bob. “I’m doing some last minute prep for a presentation tomorrow. I’ll be home as soon as we finish up here. Which will be soon.”

“Your mother and I know you haven’t been sleeping well,” her father said. “We want you to get as much sleep as possible while you have the chance. You study too hard and you’ll be burnt out before you even begin college.”

“I know, Daddy,” she said. He just wanted what was best for her, even if he was too busy most of the time, too. She wasn’t sure if it was nurture or nature. “We really are finishing up soon.”

“Okay,” her father said. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You will,” Taylor agreed. She closed up her phone and said to Frank and Bob, “I wish to go home now.”

“Before you go,” Bob said. “Take the box.”

Taylor sighed and followed Bob’s gaze to the box he had tried to give her earlier.

“You single-handedly destroyed my entire academic reputation,” Taylor muttered.

Frank blithely ignored her. “Bob, you should also teach her some quick self-defense tips before you bring her home.”

The look Bob gave Frank demonstrated very well how Bob would retaliate once Taylor had gone.

Taylor let herself be led to the basement, where Bob taught her three blocks, two holds, and five different ways to drive a wooden stake into the heart of a vampire.

“The dreams should stop,” Bob said as they stopped.

“Like you’ve ever had that problem,” Taylor grumbled.

Frank released a set of hysterical laughter. “Show her your diary!” he hooted.

“It’s a journal, and no,” Bob said.

“I’ll go grab it!” Frank said and raced up the stairs.

“You have to excuse Frank,” Bob said. “He just graduated to the maturity of a twelve-year-old.”

Taylor grinned slightly and gave Bob a look that hopefully conveyed her question about what that said about Bob’s tastes.

Bob scowled and didn’t answer.

Frank raced back downstairs waving a book. He shoved it at Bob. “Let her read your diary!”

“It’s a journal,” Bob repeated. “Brian made me do it.”

“Yes, and then you braided each other’s hair,” Frank said. “I know.”

Bob outright glared at Frank.

“I’ll drive you home,” Bob said to Taylor.

\- - -

As Taylor figured, Bob dropped her off at her house without asking for directions. He parked on the side of the road instead of in her driveway.

As she stepped out of the car, he handed her the journal. “Read it,” he said. “It will explain a hell of a lot more than Frank. And it will make more sense. I was new to the whole hunting thing when I wrote it.”

Taylor accepted it hesitantly.

Bob gave her a half smile and drove off.

\- - -

Taylor actually slept through the night.

It was _amazing_.

\- - -

Taylor spent the next day being a horrible student. Instead of paying attention to her classes, she read Bob’s journal. It was a dream journal, so that made it difficult to read in places, especially places where shorthand was used. It wasn’t any sort of shorthand Taylor knew. But she was able to glean the point from the entire thing.

Bob had dreams sent to him by some… force. Taylor wasn’t sure what force, because Bob wasn’t sure what force.

Bob mentioned the aftermath of a gory battle and scars and death and blue feathers from a demon peacock. In fact, Bob was the only one who always survived. (The demon peacock might have, too, but that didn’t matter.) He named several people. People that Taylor didn’t know but their names sounded familiar: Frank, obviously, but Brian, Gerard, Pete, Patrick, Andy, Joe, and others. There were also people who Taylor didn’t know: Matt, Mikey, Ray, and others. Then there were the people that Bob didn’t know. He described Taylor to a T – including the outfit she had worn the day before.

The date on the entry was three years ago.

Taylor bought her outfit last month.

She sucked in a large breath through her mouth, because she felt dizzy.

Some stranger wrote about her _three years_ ago. Some stranger wrote about her three years ago, because she was _dead_.

\- - -

Frank stood out on the front steps when school ended.

Taylor stopped dead, which was a dangerous move in the middle of the swift river of students spilling out of the school.

Gabriella, who had been talking to her, pulled her out of the stream of kids before she was trampled.

“What’s the matter?” Gabriella asked.

“Frank,” Taylor said.

“Who’s that?” Gabriella asked.

Taylor pointed to Frank, sitting on the low wall he had been sitting on the other day. “That’s Frank.”

“He’s… huh,” Gabriella said. “Who is he?”

“He’s…” Taylor had no idea how to explain Frank without telling Gabriella any information that would implicate Taylor as unstable. “He sometimes helps me study at the library.”

“Is that why you were in such a hurry to leave yesterday?” Gabriella asked through her giggles.

“Ugh, no,” Taylor said. “He’s just there to help me study.”

“He’s hot,” Gabriella said.

“Down girl,” Taylor said wryly. “His boyfriend might hear you.”

“Oh, well that figures,” Gabriella said with a sigh.

“ _Your_ boyfriend might here you, too,” Taylor added.

“Troy knows I’m just looking,” Gabriella said. “He looks, too.” Mostly Troy looked at Gabriella. That boy was seriously smitten.

Taylor didn’t comment.

“Are you going to go with him?” Gabriella asked. “He’s waving you over.”

“I don’t know,” Taylor said. “Yesterday really taxed my nerves.”

“Don’t think of your frayed nerves, think of your resume,” Gabriella said.

“I’m not sure the headache is worth the payoff,” Taylor sighed.

“What else were you planning on doing?” Gabriella asked. “You should look while Chad’s not around. He seems the jealous type.”

“He’s not,” Taylor said. “But if I don’t go with Frank now, he’ll probably turn up at a less opportune time.”

“Okay,” Gabriella said. “I won’t wait up.”

“Ugh,” Taylor groaned. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye!” Gabriella warbled.

Taylor snorted and went over to Frank. “Well?” she demanded.

“You’re wearing your cross,” Frank observed.

“You’re still stalking me,” Taylor pointed out.

Frank smirked and shrugged. “C’mon. We’re going to start your training in earnest.”

“Do people even say things like that anymore?” Taylor wondered.

“Frank says whatever the hell he wants,” Bob said. He had appeared out of nowhere. If they’re going to teach her slaying things, Taylor wanted to know how Bob could be so ninja. “It doesn’t matter if it has any basis in reality.”

“Did you read Bob’s diary?” Frank asked.

“Case in point,” Bob said.

Taylor forced herself to say, “Shouldn’t we talk about this at your place?”

Frank’s smirk turned into a grin. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

\- - -

“I haven’t accepted this yet,” Taylor said.

“Did the nightmares go away?” Frank asked. He sounded serious for once.

Taylor set her mouth in a firm line and stared out the window of the car.

Frank turned around in his seat to look at her. “They did, didn’t they?”

Taylor focused harder on the passing houses.

“That means you’ve accepted it,” Frank said.

“You read my journal,” Bob stated. He gave Taylor a quick glance via the rearview mirror, but thankfully kept his eyes on the road as he drove.

“I’m not being stalked by a demon peacock,” Taylor felt compelled to point out. She felt that bit of information needed to be actually said. That way everyone in the car would feel as foolish as she felt for saying it.

“That’s not the point,” Bob said. “It’s about destiny. Once I did what the dreams told me to do, the circumstances in my dreams were no longer – they’re not going to happen. The same with your dreams. You’ve changed the direction you’re headed.”

“Are you missing the point where it’s creepy that you dreamed about me before I even knew you existed?” Taylor asked.

“No,” Bob said. “It’s pretty fucking creepy.”

Taylor wasn’t expecting him to admit that.

“There are times when it’s just better not to think about certain things,” Bob said. “Logic doesn’t always work.”

“That’s what that guy said,” Taylor said before she could stop herself. She really needed to look into her impulse control.

“Which guy?” Frank asked.

“The guy on your phone,” Taylor said. “Sprinkles.”

“Sprinkles?” Bob asked Frank in a dangerous, flat tone. “You have him as “sprinkles”?”

“Yup,” Frank said. “Every cupcake needs sprinkles.”

Taylor had no idea what they were talking about. However, if she was going to survive this, she’d have to ignore a few oddities.

“That was Brian,” Bob explained. “He was the guy with me in the alley when we were cornered by vampires.”

“I liked it better when you didn’t use the word vampires,” Taylor grumbled.

“Vampires,” Frank said. He then giggled uncontrollably. It made Taylor want to kick him in the head. Maybe those were her angry hormones talking. Although the look Bob gave Frank told her that Frank usually made people want to kick him in the head.

\- - -

Frank dumped a heavy tome in front of Taylor as she sat down at their kitchen table. The book looked like it had seen much better days.

“This is one of the best resources for vamp info,” Frank explained. He sat across from her.

Bob sat between them. Probably to intercept any explosions of violence.

Taylor leaned back in her chair and gave Frank a truly unimpressed look, one that only teenagers could accomplish. Taylor had practiced on Chad, and Frank needed it more than Chad anyway. The look could probably be improved. Taylor was always up for an experiment.

“Bob and I can also supplement information,” Frank added. “You know, that’s kinda our job.”

Taylor raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” Frank continued. “It’s my job. Bob’s just here for the – ”

Bob cleared his throat loudly and glared at Frank.

“Right,” Frank said with a terse nod. “Vampires.”

Taylor tried to conceal her slight flinch. She was sure that Bob caught it, but he didn’t say anything.

“Vampires,” Frank repeated. “Fuck this! It’s so much easier to demonstrate.”

“Sundown is in five hours,” Bob said.

“Oh,” Frank said. He sounded a bit dejected.

“Instead, we’ll work on your self-defense,” Bob said. “And weight training.”

“Hey,” Taylor protested. “No one said this was going to be like an extra phys-ed class.”

“Yeah,” Frank said. “And there are no A’s or F’s, just alive or dead.”

Bob gave Frank a look, and Frank amended his statement to, “We’re not going to let the dead part happen.”

“Down to the basement,” Bob said. “We’ll review what we went over yesterday.”

\- - -

According to Bob, “what we went over yesterday” meant Taylor landing on her butt one move after another. She’s going to be so bruised tomorrow. And she might even have a limp. That won’t be fun explaining to anyone curious enough to ask.

“Didn’t you practice?” Frank asked.

Taylor wiped her hair out of her eyes a little bit fiercer than she would have normally. “When?” she demanded. “During history?”

Frank shrugged.

Taylor growled.

“It’s only a matter of practice,” Bob said patiently. “Would it help to see me kick Frank’s ass?”

Taylor nodded vigorously while Frank spewed some bravado crap and jumped to his feet.

Bob swiped them out from under him.

“That was a cheap trick!” Frank protested.

“Aren’t you supposed to be teaching her that vamps don’t fight clean?” Bob asked. Actually, he taunted. Bob was taunting Frank.

Frank scrambled to his feet again. “Fucker!”

Taylor figured that was his war cry, because Frank launched himself at Bob. What followed was a flurry of punches and blocks and kicks, and Taylor wasn’t sure, but she thought Frank may have bitten Bob at one point. Bob had bulk but Frank had speed. However, somehow, Bob overpowered Frank.

Frank ended up flat on his stomach on the floor with Bob sitting on his head.

There was a quick, hushed exchange of words that Taylor pretended not to hear, and Bob relented, letting Frank stand.

“A vamp won’t let you sit on his head,” Bob said. “You should dust him anyway.”

“Who’s the Watcher here?” Frank protested. “Stake to the heart, beheading, fire, and sunlight are the only things that turn vampires to dust.”

Taylor raised her eyebrows.

“We’re not going to let you out on your own,” Bob said.

“Not yet,” Frank added. “And not without weapons.” He ran over to a wall and pulled at something until a panel opened to reveal some very nasty, Medieval-looking weaponry.

“Holy… God,” Taylor whispered. She was thankful that she was… 90 percent certain that Frank and Bob weren’t going to harm her.

Frank took a crossbow off the wall and handed it to her. “Anyone can stab a stick through a vampire’s chest, so I don’t think you’ll need to know that tonight. We’ll work on that later. But this is going to keep you out of the fray before you’re properly trained.”

Taylor gave Frank an incredulous look.

“We’ll teach you hand-to-hand,” Bob explained. “But it takes time.”

Taylor nodded. “I’ve seen _The Karate Kid_.”

Frank nodded sagely. “Your life is going to feel like a bad ‘80’s montage.”

Taylor gave Frank an unimpressed look.

\- - -

Frank had ridiculously high standards of Taylor’s marksmanship. Marksmanship that Taylor totally didn’t have.

They had taken her out back and painted a target on their back fence. Taylor had missed it ten times. In a row. Out of ten times.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Bob promised.

Taylor wanted to respond with something sullen, but she refrained. It wouldn’t accomplish anything.

“I thought the Slayer was supposed to have skills,” Frank muttered, and Taylor no longer wanted to say sullen things. She wanted to say angry things with many four letter words.

Bob gave Taylor a thoughtful look. “You told her how to shoot,” he said. “You didn’t explain how the crossbow worked.”

Frank huffed.

Bob explained all the mechanisms on the crossbow from the slight being slightly crooked to the friction of the groove. Taylor was able to apply her knowledge of physics to supplement the rest – torque, trajectory, and Newton’s Laws.

“Now shoot,” he instructed.

Taylor shot a bull’s eye.

“Kickass!” Frank enthused. “Do it again!”

Taylor did it again. Another bull’s eye.

Bob nodded satisfactorily.

“Huh,” Frank said. “You are a natural.”

Taylor smiled brightly. She felt invincible.

\- - -

Taylor was knocked flat on her ass for the third time in a row, the extra strength that Frank claimed she was supposed to have be damned. Frank giggled manically.

“Okay,” Bob said. “That’s enough.” He helped Taylor up from the floor.

“It’s almost sundown,” Frank exclaimed. Taylor had no idea why he was so excited about going to a graveyard at night to kill things.

“If something happens,” Bob said. “Don’t let them fight you. Run and use the crossbow. We’ll also give you a stake and holy water – as a last resort.”

“You can even borrow Pansy if you’d like,” Frank offered. Taylor had no idea what he was talking about.

“He names his stakes,” Bob explained.

“Really?” Taylor asked wryly.

Frank nodded. “Time to go.”

\- - -

The cemetery wasn’t as bad as Taylor thought it would be. It was still pretty bad, though. It wasn’t pitch black – she could see the faint glow from the city. It was quiet. Taylor could hear everything going on around them. She could hear the difference in pattern between Bob’s and Frank’s footsteps.

They stopped in front of a fresh grave. Joyce Cohen, according to the headstone. Taylor had heard that name on the news a few nights ago. Right when all the weird stuff began happening. Joyce had been stabbed twice in the neck according to the news. Apparently they needed to have their facts checked. At least according to Frank, who claimed she would rise from the grave as a vampire.

“Now what?” Taylor asked.

“Now we wait for her to wake up,” Frank said.

“Oh,” Taylor said faintly. There was going to be a person – vampire – coming up from the ground. From the grave. Through six feet of cement.

“Hey, hey,” Bob said softly. “It’ll be fine.”

“Dead things should stay dead,” Taylor said firmly.

“Exactly,” Frank said. “That’s your job.”

Taylor glared at him.

“The Slayer slays vampires,” Frank added unnecessarily. “The undead, making them dead.”

“She gets the point,” Bob said.

Taylor heard a crack.

Frank clutched at his stake.

Taylor wished she were someplace else. Someplace that wasn’t a cemetery at night with people she had recently met and were probably insane.

She brought up her preloaded crossbow.

The moment a head broke through the ground, Bob stepped up to it with a machete that Taylor hadn’t notices before – and it was quite large. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know where it was hidden, but she was impressed – and lobbed the head off the body. Taylor didn’t want to think about how much force that must have taken.

Dust flew everywhere as the body disintegrated.

“Hey!” Frank protested. “That’s not going to help her fight vampires!”

“It’s dusted,” Bob said. “There wasn’t a fight. The only one who came out worse for wear was the vampire.”

Frank huffed. “Fine. Do it the easy way.”

Something hissed and raced toward them. It rushed Bob, knocking him to the ground and going for his throat.

Frank, in an amazing feat of adrenaline, bodily hailed the vampire off of Bob.

The vampire did not enjoy this and immediately turned on Frank, who had a stake at the ready. It’s business end was directed at the vampire.

Bob leapt to his feet and tried to jump the vampire, except the vampire knocked Bob onto his ass again.

Taylor watched in shock. Her body and mind were frozen. She had sparred against Bob, and he had continuously knocked her on her ass, and here was a vampire, wiping the floor with Bob. Bob was unbeatable. This wasn’t how it worked. And here she was not helping, just staring.

Frank launched himself at the vampire.

“You’re pathetic, meatbag,” the vampire hissed, and Taylor realized that she had tuned out all the noise, which was something she had been trying to do for the past week but hadn’t been able to achieve. She could have chosen a better time, though. One that didn’t involve a vampire attack.

“You all say the same shit,” Frank shot back as the vampire threw him off. “And you all end up the same, too.”

Taylor wondered if verbal sparring always went along with the physical sparring. Then she realized that Bob hadn’t stood back up. In fact, he was bleeding heavily from the head – a cut just above his left eyebrow – and he was unconscious.

Frank went flying and hit a gravestone hard enough to topple it.

The vampire turned to Taylor. “You’re a pretty one,” it said. “You’ll make a good slave for my Master.”

Hell no! Taylor was nobody’s slave. Her great-great-great-grandparents on her mother’s side had been slaves on a cotton plantation in Alabama. No one deserved that, and Taylor wasn’t going to let that happen to anyone if she had the power to stop it.

“I wouldn’t make a very willing slave,” Taylor growled. She wished Frank would wake up. And Bob too.

“You’d be more than willing once you were no longer kept back by your pathetic human body.”

“Your master have a name?” Taylor asked. She was good at stalling – and asking questions.

“Yes!” the vampire said happily. “Baal.”

“Good to know,” Taylor said.

The vampire rushed at her, but Taylor was already rushing the vampire. She knocked the vampire to the ground with more force than she thought she had, and she shoved a stake between two ribs and into the heart.

It exploded under her in a blast of dust.

Taylor stumbled to the ground.

She hadn’t thought she had it in her, but she had staked her first vampire. That gave her a lot to think about, but she’d have to do that later.

She ran over to Bob and shook him until he groaned and opened his eyes.

“Vamp?” he croaked. Then he cleared his throat.

Taylor winced. “Dust.”

“Frank?” Bob asked, pulling himself up off the ground with Taylor’s help. His voice sounded a lot better.

“He’s really hurt,” Taylor said plaintively.

Bob staggered in his haste to locate Frank.

“He’s over there,” Taylor said. And really, Bob shouldn’t be doing that. He probably had a concussion.

But Bob was already by Frank’s side, carefully examining him.

“He’s bruised,” Bob said. “But not broken. He should be fine.”

“He hit a tombstone,” Taylor argued. “There could be internal bleeding.”

Bob blanched. Did he seriously not think of that?

“He should go to the ER,” Taylor said.

Bob eyed Frank for a moment before he pursed his lips and agreed.

Both Bob and Taylor maneuvered Frank into the car, and they spent the rest of the night at the ER.

Taylor had already told her parents that she was spending the night at a friend’s house to study for an exam. She was happy that that scenario had played out countless times before she had even met Frank and Bob. Her parents hadn’t even asked for details.

Frank really was just bruised, and he was given some strong pain killers. Taylor had badgered Bob into being checked out as well. He had a concussion.

Taylor drove both of them home. Thank God it was a Friday night and not a school night.

\- - -

She stayed in the guestroom. Taylor thought the room was probably never used, but she was thankful they had it. Her other option was the couch, which had a suspicious stain on it. And she wasn’t coldhearted enough to kick Bob and Frank out of their bed – another something that Taylor didn’t want to think about.

\- - -

In the morning Taylor made pancakes. It seemed to be the polite thing to do when staying in a guest room. Bob and Frank were still asleep after they were made. Taylor ate a few and put the rest on the microwave to keep them warm.

Bob came down the stairs first.

Bob didn’t acknowledge Taylor in any way. He just stumbled to the coffee machine. After a cup of coffee and ten minutes later, Bob noticed Taylor.

“There are pancakes in the microwave,” she said.

Bob grunted in response. Taylor wasn’t sure if it was a positive or a negative – or if Bob only acknowledged that Taylor had said something.

Clearly, Bob was not a morning person.

“Pancakes,” Taylor repeated seriously. She didn’t mess around when there were pancakes available.

“Pancakes,” Bob parroted. And here Taylor thought that Bob was something other than a typical male.

“In the microwave.”

Frank crashed down the stairs as Bob opened the microwave.

“Hey, Bob!” Frank said. “We have a Slayer in our kitchen.”

“Yeah,” Bob agreed. He was eating a pancake with his hands. Taylor tried not to wince. Boys.

“She didn’t run away,” Frank continued.

“She made pancakes,” Taylor said, placing her hands on her hips.

“Hmm,” Frank mused. “That’s not the typical reaction to a first kill.”

“So,” Taylor said. “Vampires.”

“Yup,” Frank agreed. He eyed the pancakes distrustfully. “You made pancakes.”

“I can cook, you know,” Taylor said dryly.

“Did you make it with Bob’s baby chickens?” Frank asked.

“What?” Taylor asked incredulously.

“He means eggs,” Bob clarified.

“Yeah,” Frank agreed. He stepped away from the pancakes. He’d kill a vampire, but he wouldn’t eat an egg. Seriously. Boys.

“He’s vegan,” Bob explained.

“So,” Taylor said again. “Vampires.”

“What about them?” Frank asked.

“I killed one.” It almost killed Taylor to admit that.

“Yeah?” Frank prompted.

“Are they all like that?” she asked.

Frank eyed her and sat down at the table. He made grabby-hands at Bob until Bob sighed and poured Frank a cup of coffee.

“Short answer: kinda,” Frank said after a large gulp of coffee. “Long answer: it’s complicated.”

“Meaning?” Taylor prompted.

“That particular vamp was old,” Bob cut in.

“How do you know?” Taylor challenged.

“A series of observations,” Frank said. “Including clothing. The older the vamp, the more out of touch they are with fashion.”

“They also act differently,” Bob added. “It’s subtle, and it’s something that becomes easier with practice.”

“I’m going to assume vampires don’t age,” Taylor said.

“Right,” Frank said with a nod. He took another gulp of coffee.

“So,” Taylor said. “I’m the person who’s destined to kill them.”

“You’ve done okay so far,” Frank said with a shrug.

“So far!” Taylor burst out. “I killed a vampire. Vampire!”

“I think she’s panicking,” Frank told Bob.

“Of course she’s panicking!” Taylor shouted.

“It’s your job to fix that,” Bob told Frank.

Frank grunted.

Taylor doubted either of them had the capability to calm her. Maybe she shouldn’t think logically about the situation. It would be difficult to do. Maybe Chad could help her out about turning off logic and running on instinct. He called it “the zone.” But Taylor’s instincts were based on logic. It was who she was.

“You did an excellent job last night,” Frank told her.

“I do everything to the best of my ability,” Taylor informed him primly.

“Awesome,” Frank enthused. He turned to Bob. “Longest living Slayer.”

Taylor scowled at both Frank and Bob.

“There are some problems, though,” Frank said. He looked to Bob, who looked back, and they were able hold a conversation with their expressions.

Taylor continued to scowl, and maybe she put a little bit more force behind that scowl. Not a single person could blame her.

“Those vampires recognized you as the Slayer, didn’t they?” Frank asked.

Taylor nodded tentatively. “Not really, but they were different with me than with you.”

“Yeah,” Frank said. “They know. And they know who your friends are.”

“Are you threatening me?” Taylor demanded.

“No,” Frank said coolly, and Taylor hated him for it. “The vamps are.”

Taylor narrowed her eyes.

“It would probably be best for your boyfriend if you dumped him,” Frank said.

“How do you know I have a boyfriend?” Taylor demanded. She didn’t really want an answer. She just wanted to end the gross violation of privacy.

“He’s the one who stuck his finger in an electrical socket,” Frank explained.

Taylor might have growled a bit.

“Everything’s going to be different now,” Bob said.

“You’re going to see things differently,” Frank said. “It’s a Slayer thing. And a hunter thing.”

Taylor crossed her arms. “I want to go home now.”

\- - -

At school on Monday, everything was different. Not in the weird, Twilight Zone sense, but in the sense that Taylor was much more aware of the behavior of everyone else. And calculus seemed a bit irrelevant to her new world. She had awoken something primeval inside of her. She could sense things. Some people were the same, like Chad and Gabriella. And other people were different somehow, like Jason and Martha. They obviously weren’t vampires, because they were out in the middle of the parking lot talking in a group. And no one had burst into flames. Frank had warned her that something like this would happen – the differences, not her friends bursting into flames, but Taylor hadn’t been sure what he had meant.

Taylor did understand what Frank had meant by keeping civilians out of her life: it meant cutting her ties with her closest friends and distancing them. Taylor wasn’t necessarily fond of this idea, but she understood the logic behind it. Word was out that she was the Slayer, and all sorts of nasty creatures would come after her vulnerabilities. And introducing her friends to this new world of hers was completely out of the question.

Gabriella would be no problem to ditch. All Taylor had to say was that she was too busy studying. Taylor felt really guilty about it, but she didn’t want Gabriella involved.

Taylor decided to dump Chad at lunch.

The thing was, Taylor really liked Chad. He was a little weird, a little socially stupid, and a lot hot. Taylor liked to focus on that last part, despite its vapidity, but she also enjoyed that she could hold a conversation with him that had some depth. Although Chad’s favorite subject was basketball. Taylor had learned how to lead Chad away from that topic, which was a highly valuable skill.

Then there was also that part where she had been building up their relationship so that the next step to deepen their relationship into something sexual was really, really close. Taylor had to admit she was curious.

Her first four classes were a bit torturous. She kept thinking about everything they’d miss out on and everything that could possibly go wrong if she didn’t end things.

Taylor was actually surprised with her imagination. With everything that’s happened to her recently, she’s surprised her mind had other things to add. Although Frank had mentioned “other forces of darkness,” but he hadn’t elaborated. Taylor’s imagination had taken over.

She must have been so distracted by her thoughts that Chad was the one who took her aside during lunch.

“Let’s go up to Troy’s secret spot,” he suggested.

“And if he’s there?” Taylor responded.

“Then he will learn his lesson about keeping his secret spot a secret,” Chad said with a shrug.

Taylor kept quiet as Chad talked about how his history class was absolutely dreadful and that pop quizzes should be outlawed under “cruel and unusual.”

When they sat down in Troy’s secret spot, Taylor said, “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“What?” Chad asked. “Is this because I tried to grab your boobs?”

“Charming,” Taylor said wryly. “But no.”

“Oh,” Chad said. “Was it because I tried to grab your thighs?”

Taylor gave Chad a severe look. “I need to spend more time to study. It’s really difficult to get into Yale. Even a four-oh won’t put me on their radar. We’re still friends, though.”

“Friends,” Chad echoed. “No more making out.” He sounded so dejected about it. But Chad would choose that fact to focus on.

“No,” Taylor said.

Chad heaved a heavy sigh.

“I’m really sorry, Chad,” Taylor said, and she was.

“Me too,” Chad muttered.

\- - -

Taylor went to the library after school. Again. Except she didn’t go to the town library, she hit up the school library. Frank and Bob would be less likely to find her, and she wanted to research some things without them.

She was surprised to find Jason in the library as well. Other than him, the library was empty, except for the librarian, who shelved books and ignored them. It was a Monday, and usually most projects were due on Fridays, so it made a little sense about the emptiness. But Jason. That was a little confusing.

Taylor smiled at him as she passed. He smiled back, and there was still something off about him. Taylor figured it wasn’t the most polite thing to ask him what he was. Instead she took over an entire table, spreading books and notebooks and not having to worry about other students looking over her shoulder.

It takes a lot of digging and more than the book Frank had given her… and the book Bob had slipped her. The book Bob had slipped her was more along the lines of a notebook. The title is in crayon: JoeTro’s Handy-Dandy Notebook Filled with Notes and Picture References for Everything You Ever Needed, Might Need, Do Need to Not Die of Magical-ish Causes: the Slayer Edition. The title didn’t exactly inspire confidence. The smiley faces also in crayon really didn’t inspire confidence. Taylor had no idea who JoeTro was, but she hoped he was at least halfway competent.

Taylor looked for any reference of Baal in any of her vampire references. Mostly she could find references to the god Ba’al. Taylor doubted the vampire was a god. She decided to conclude that the vampiric Baal was an egomaniac and took on the name to feed that ego. From Taylor’s brief brush with vampires, that seemed the most likely. But that didn’t answer any of her questions.

She’s in the demon royalty hierarchy chapter of JoTro’s book when Jason interrupted her.

“Hey,” he said and sat down next to her.

“Hi,” Taylor said. She was suspicious of his intentions, and she didn’t want him to see her books. She carefully arranged her books so that no large text was obvious, especially JoTro’s book.

“I heard you broke up with Chad,” Jason said.

“Yeah,” Taylor said, hoping he wasn’t going to try to convince her to go back to Chad or dating Jason.

“That’s rough, man,” Jason said. He twitched his neck to flick his long bangs out of his eyes. Taylor thought he should probably just cut it and cut out all the hassle.

“I need more time to study,” she said. She spread a hand out over her books.

“Oh,” he said. “Do you want to study for the history test with me?”

Taylor hesitated. She wasn’t sure if Jason had any ulterior motive or if he earnestly wanted help. Right. It was Jason. He wanted help.

\- - -

Bob and Frank were waiting for her in the school parking lot. They looked like they were directly out of a clichéd high school movie. Frank sat on the hood of Bob’s car, and Bob stood next to his car, leaning a hip against it.

Taylor sighed. So much for her escaping their stalking.

Thank God Jason isn’t around. Taylor couldn’t imagine the rumors that would circulate the school.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Someone’s been keeping secrets,” Frank sang.

Taylor frowned at him. “Someone’s been taking his meds as directed,” she said flatly.

Frank cackled, and he immediately hurt himself. “Ow,” he whined, clutching his ribs.

“What Frank means is you have information that you kept to yourself,” Bob said. He crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at Taylor.

Taylor tried very hard not to spill her guts. Bob was really good at intimidation.

“Forgive me for not telling everything going on in my life to two men I just met, am still not convinced are legit, and made me break up with my boyfriend,” Taylor huffed. She’s the youngest child: she’s used to having the blame pinned on her, deserved or not. She’s not at all ashamed of keeping information from Frank and Bob.

“In the car,” Bob said with a roll of his eyes.

Taylor huffed again, but she slid into the backseat.

“So this Baal guy,” Frank drawled. He didn’t continue.

“Yeah?” Taylor prompted.

“He wants the usual vampire things,” Frank continued. “An army of minions and world domination.”

Taylor immediately ignored the information and demanded, “How could you come to that conclusion? None of my resources told me a single thing about Baal.”

“Dude,” Frank said. “That’s what Bob and I are here for. We know this shit.”

Taylor huffed again.

“You need more hand-to-hand training before we discuss Baal,” Bob said.

\- - -

Taylor didn’t end up on her butt as much as she had during her first session, but it was still an embarrassing amount.

“Okay,” Frank finally said. “Study break.”

Taylor refrained from growling. It wouldn’t have done anything, and it would have still left her vulnerable to this Baal vampire, who she needed to prevent from accomplishing world domination. Or so Frank claimed.

She dropped down onto the couch.

Frank presented Taylor with a battered book. A tome, more like. It was ancient, and it hadn’t exactly been treated well. Taylor tried to conceal her horror about the mistreatment of the book, but she didn’t think she was entirely successful.

“This Baal vamp,” Frank said. “He’s not exactly original. He’s tried this before, too.”

Taylor ran her fingers down the warn edge of the book. She asked, “He has tried what?”

“Taking over the world,” Frank said with a shrug. “They do that a lot. That’s the whole point of being the Slayer. To prevent that.

“He’s probably behind the string of deaths and disappearances.”

“He’s trying to take over the world,” Taylor repeated incredulously. She might have misheard it the first time Frank had said it, but this was no mistake. “That’s actually done? I thought that was more like a bad SciFi show thing.”

“That’s your life now,” Bob said. “Bad SciFi.

Frank giggled.

“What deaths and disappearances?” Taylor asked.

“Don’t you watch the news?” Frank asked. “Or read the papers?”

Taylor scowled at him.

“Fine,” Frank said. “So far many of the deaths and disappearances have been kept out of the media, but we have ways of finding things out.”

“He means I know people,” Bob said. “The main coroner in town, someone at the police station, people like that.”

Taylor nodded, unsure where this was headed. If there was a connection between minions and the disappearances, couldn’t they just say that? It wasn’t too difficult to use details. And conjunctions that actually connected two coherent thoughts.

Her phone beeped, and she pulled it out. It was Jason. She wasn’t even sure that he had her number. Maybe Chad had given it to him.

can we meet for histroy?

Taylor frowned at the text. Had he misspelled “history” or was he saying something about Troy?

? she sent back.

i'm havin truble

Yes. Jason was.

I’m not sure when I can break away. I’ll give you a call. Taylor sent back.

Frank peered over Taylor’s shoulder. “I thought you broke up with your boyfriend.”

“Stop being nosy,” Taylor said. She flipped her phone shut. “And I did, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have friends. Or that I’m not still friends with my now exboyfriend.”

Frank shared a look with Bob. It was an ominous look that screamed of familiarity with something. Maybe the situation.

“What?” Taylor demanded.

“Anyone can find out who your friends are and use them against you,” Bob said.

“You want me to commit social suicide?” Taylor asked. “Not going to happen. And this has nothing to do with Baal.”

“Open the book, then,” Frank said impatiently.

Taylor scoffed and opened the book. She flipped to the section about vampires. A picture of a mutilated face greeted her, all pointy teeth and yellowed eyes.

“What am I looking for?” Taylor asked. She worked much better, especially researching, when she had a purpose. Obviously she was looking for Baal, but that wasn’t enough to begin.

“I’ll show you,” Frank said. He pulled up next to her on the couch.

“I’ll make food,” Bob said.

\- - -

“It’s a full moon tonight,” Frank said through a mouthful of bread. “It’ll make hunting vamps so much easier.”

“You want me to go out hunting tonight?” Taylor asked. “I have homework to do.”

“Saving the world is more important,” Frank insisted.

“I’m not going to fail my classes to save the world,” Taylor said. She placed her hands on her hips. “There’s absolutely no reason I can’t do both.”

Bob raised his eyebrows.

“You’re going on patrol,” Frank said.

“You’re not my father,” Taylor argued. “And I don’t really listen to him anyway.”

Frank grumbled something that Taylor didn’t want to think about. Because eeewww.

“I can hear you,” she pointed out. “There’s really no need to mutter.”

“Damn superhearing,” Frank scoffed.

“Look,” Taylor proposed. “Let me meet with this kid I’m tutoring, and then I’ll patrol for a while.”

“Are you going to be bargaining for the rest of forever?” Frank asked.

Taylor shrugged. “Probably.”

“Fine,” Frank said. “Go tutor.” He went back to his meal.

“I need a ride,” Taylor said. “Someone – two someones – abducted me from school.”

\- - -

Bob dropped Taylor off at the library with the promise to be back in two hours.

Taylor sighed heavily but agreed.

Jason was not in the place the agreed to meet.

Taylor searched the whole library for him and sent him a flurry of texts, none of which were answered.

Taylor sighed to herself and headed out. If Jason wasn’t at the library, there was no reason for Taylor to be as well. She could work on her own work. Maybe at her own house, which was becoming sort of a novelty.

She was wary as she approached the bus stop. The last time she had been at the bus stop, a vampire had tried to kill her. She paid very close attention to strange noises in the background. And she heard a lot of strange noises in the background.

There was a weird snuffling going on in the alley. She thought maybe it was a rat, but it sounded a lot larger than a rat, maybe a stray dog?

Something erupted from the alley, and landed Taylor flat on her back. Her reflexes kicked in, and she quickly bucked off whatever was on top of her. It was a stray dog, but it was so not a stray dog it wasn’t funny.

It growled at her and sniffed from a few yards off. It then stopped growling at her and ran down the street.

Taylor’s heart pounded as she watched it run off. She wasn’t sure if she should call Bob for a consultation or a ride. Instead she called her parents for a ride.

\- - -

Taylor’s father didn’t say anything on the ride back home. She was glad for that, because she had no idea what to say. Her mind was stuck on that not-dog. The chapter in the book Frank had her look at was about werewolves. Vampires were enough; Taylor didn’t want to think about werewolves.

“So,” her father said as they pulled onto their street. “You’re spending a lot of time studying.”

“I was supposed to meet someone at the library to tutor,” Taylor said. “I wasn’t comfortable taking the bus home.”

“I was going to mention something about that,” her father said. “There are a lot of disappearances lately. I want you to be careful.”

“I called you, Daddy,” Taylor said.

“Your mother and I might have to limit the amount of time you spend out,” he said, then added, “for your safety. We also want to meet everyone you’re going out with.”

Taylor wanted to protest vehemently. It wasn’t the least bit fair. She had spent the past three years going out with whomever, and her parents, for the most part, hadn’t cared. She had a 4.0 GPA, and she had never been in trouble.

“You’ve met Jason,” Taylor said. “He was the one who didn’t show up to our study session.”

Taylor’s phone chirped. She checked it: a message from Bob reminding her about patrolling.

She sighed. “My… tutors want to meet with me tonight,” Taylor said. “If you drive me, I can introduce you to them.”

“You have tutors, too?” her father asked.

“Yes,” Taylor said confidently despite the lie. “They’re endorsed by Yale and everything.”

“It’s seven at night,” her father pointed out.

“I’ve already eaten,” Taylor said. “It’s no big deal. They’re really nice. Well, they’re… they’re the type of people you need to meet in order to understand them.”

Her father gave her a critical look.

“Gabriella’s met them,” Taylor added hopefully. That wasn’t exactly a lie.

“You’re hanging out with college students?”

“No,” Taylor said. “They’re out of college.”

“Are they boys?” her father asked seriously.

“Yes,” Taylor said. There was no point in lying about that, especially if her father was going to meet them.

“I see,” her father said equally as seriously. “And where do they want to meet you?”

“Their place,” she said.

“You want to meet boys, where they live, at night,” he father said.

“Yes,” Taylor said. She rolled her eyes. “They’re in a relationship with each other.”

“You never know what sort of kinky stuff people like to do,” her father said. And that was way more than Taylor ever wanted to know about her father.

“Dad!” she exclaimed, scandalized. “It’s about studying. You know this! And you know about Chad!” Taylor didn’t mention that she and Chad were no more. Her father didn’t need to know about that.

“I don’t trust boys,” her father said. “I should know their intentions, I am one.”

Taylor wanted to die from the embarrassment. “Can we just go and get this over with?”

Her father pulled into the driveway, and then he put the car in reverse and turned around. “Where do these men live?”

“I’ll give you directions,” Taylor said. She felt slightly victorious. She also sent out a text to tell Bob that her father was driving her to her tutors’ place, and she would be at the duplex in ten minutes.

\- - -

Taylor’s father was nosy and asked many questions that Frank answered like a pro. Taylor never would have guessed that Frank was so smooth. It did strange things to her worldview.

It took Frank ten minutes to convince her father to leave Taylor with him. Frank gave him the numbers of his references from Yale. Except it was really Brian and someone named Ray.

The lies became more complex. Taylor wasn’t sure how she could manage each story she spun. It was difficult. Both mentally and ethically.

Taylor debated telling them about the not-dog couldn’t-possibly-be-a-werewolf. It seemed like something they should know about. Especially the part where it didn’t rip her limb from limb like she had expected.

It turned out that Taylor didn’t have a choice.

Bob glowered at her and crossed his arms over his chest.

She sighed. “I think I was attacked by a werewolf.”

Bob’s and Frank’s eyes widened to almost comical proportions.

“Was any skin broken?” Frank asked.

“No,” Taylor said. “It tackled me, and then it sniffed me and ran off.”

Bob and Frank exchanged glances. Taylor had no idea what they meant.

“No skin was broken?” Frank asked again.

“No,” Taylor repeated.

“Hmm,” Bob said.

“Okay,” Frank said quickly. “It’s sparring time! Then patrolling!”

Taylor sighed.

\- - -

Taylor was sore and irritable the next morning. She ended up snapping at Jason for not showing up, even though Jason looked like death warmed over. Taylor didn’t persist, because Jason looked a moment away from crying, and that would have made her feel bad for snapping, even though he totally blew her off, and she was attacked by a werewolf waiting around for him. But it’s not like she could bring that part up.

Then there was a pop quiz first period in history on the British Civil War, which Taylor was prepared for but not completely. It still was not necessary.

She did meet Jason after school in the school library, but Jason’s mind was all over the place.

\- - -

On the fifth time that Taylor set to meet up with Jason, he didn’t show again. Taylor just gave up and went out on patrol with little more than a grumble.

\- - -

After patrol, Bob and Frank always made Taylor deconstruct what happened during patrol and put context behind it. It was irritating, but nothing Taylor wasn’t used to: her teachers did it all the time, why shouldn’t her Watcher and his watcher.

This time, Frank had something constructive to add.

“The kidnappings aren’t random people off the street,” he said.

Taylor grunted in acknowledgement as she and Bob sparred.

“In fact, they’re not people at all,” Frank continued.

Taylor stopped to stare at Frank, and Bob took the opportunity to swipe her legs out from under her. She hit the floor with a painful thump and glared up at Bob.

“So no one was kidnapped,” Taylor grumbled.

“No,” Frank said. “There were kidnappings. They just weren’t people. There were some werewolves, some lesser demons, and other assorted supernatural beings.”

Taylor took a deep breath. “This vamp is collecting every flavor?”

Frank beamed at her. “You sound like a true Slayer now!”

Taylor gave Frank a withering look.

“We’ll do research after you patrol,” Frank said, blithely ignoring Taylor.

\- - -

Everyone at school was twitchy, which actually suited Taylor just fine. They were paying attention to themselves, so they couldn’t see the changes in her. Taylor could feel her body changing to fit the lifestyle of a Slayer. Her muscles were larger; her waist was trimmer, and she could wipe the floor with Frank on occasion. Okay, it was once, and it was probably a fluke, but she’ll take credit for it anyway.

The twitchiness came from the news of the disappearances of all the people – well, supernatural creatures of the night as Frank claimed – from all around the city. No one from East High knew anyone who had disappeared. As far as Taylor knew.

Except Jason wasn’t in homeroom. Taylor hadn’t noticed that Jason wasn’t there until lunch when she wanted to seek him out to say that if he was going to continue to blow her off, she wasn’t going to give her time anymore.

Taylor had a niggling feeling at the base of her skull. But she didn’t think much of it, because it was the same feeling she always had before a teacher issued a pop quiz.

Chad approached her in the few minutes before chemistry.

“You’re tutoring Jason, right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Taylor said. She was prepared to tell him that she really wouldn’t want to date him again.

“Has he been, like, off recently?” Chad asked.

Taylor gave him a look.

“More than usual,” Chad added.

“He’s been blowing off our study sessions,” Taylor offered.

“Oh,” Chad said.

Taylor had no idea what that meant.

“He’s not answering his phone,” Chad added. “I think – ” He cut himself off as the bell rang and didn’t add anything: he just headed off to class.

\- - -

It was a pretty normal patrol. Taylor had been on enough of them to fall into a routine, which wasn’t an odder feeling than the fact that she had a routine involving the slaying of vampires.

Well, it was routine until a vampire just sort of stared at her instead of trying to kill her. That was different.

Taylor wasn’t sure how to respond to the vampire. She didn’t know if she should just let it go or if she should engage. Frank took care of that for her, though.

“Hey! Fang-face!” Frank shouted.

The vampire hissed at Frank and turned its attention to Taylor. “We have your puppy.”

“Say what?” Taylor said.

“If you want him back, you need to be slave to my Master,” the vampire continued.

“I’m no one’s slave,” Taylor said with narrowed eyes.

She’s not exactly sure what happened next, but she ended on top of the vampire with a stake poised directly above its heart, and Frank stood in the entrance of the alleyway with his jaw slack.

“I’m no one’s slave,” Taylor repeated in a growl. “Now you are going to tell me where Baal is and I’ll think about not staking you.”

The vampire hissed at her, and Taylor dug the tip of the stake into its papery non-flesh.

“Where’s Baal?” Taylor hissed back.

The vampire snarled at her.

“There will always be more messengers,” Taylor said, basing her statement primarily on the multitude of bad scifi movies that Chad had made her watch. She had no idea if it was actually true, but it sounded like a badass threat.

“Warehouse downtown,” the vampire relented.

“Good,” Taylor said. She pushed the stake through the vampire’s heart anyway, feeling removed from the situation. Her body took over. It was her job to kill vampires even if they cooperated. She wasn’t the government: she didn’t give immunity.

“Dude,” Frank said, drawing out the word in awe.

Taylor glared at Frank. “We’re going downtown.”

“Dude,” Frank said again. “You could have at least terrorized an address out of him before dusting.”

Taylor shrugged. “Tell Bob to meet us downtown. And to bring my crossbow. And extra stakes.”

Frank smirked. “Our little Slayer is all grown up.”

Taylor was proud of herself for not punching Frank in the face.

\- - -

There were a lot of empty warehouses downtown. Bob seemed to know exactly which one had the vampires in it. Taylor observed him closely, but he didn’t reveal his vampire-stalking skills.

The plan was Bob’s. It involved the three of them entering the warehouse from three different sides, guns blazing, staking first asking questions later. It was pretty straight forward, despite Taylor’s slight misgivings about the whole taking a warehouse full of vampires by storm.

She was prepared for the vampires coming at her from all sides as soon as she kicked open the door. She wasn’t prepared for the cages that lined the walls. Cages full of people. No. Cages full of supernatural creatures that looked like people.

She wasn’t sure how she managed to take out all the vampires that swarmed her. She blacked out and let instinct take over. She’d need to talk to Frank about that later – to see if it was normal not to remember what she had done. Maybe it was her mind’s way of coping with the fact that she was slaying vampires.

Frank and Bob stared at Taylor. Bob’s mouth wasn’t as agape as Frank’s, but it was still agape. And Taylor felt very conscious about the entire thing.

“Did you just roundhouse that vamp’s face?” Frank asked.

“Um…” Taylor said. She wasn’t sure. She might have?

She turned to survey the warehouse, taking in the lines of cages… and locking eyes with Jason.

“Um…” she repeated.

“Um…” Jason echoed, and that was too much.

Several of the creatures in the cages had figured out who Taylor was and were hissing “Slayer” at her.

Taylor turned to Frank to see what she should do next. She could handle vampires trying to kill her – that was pretty cut and dry. But apparently cages full of supernatural creatures – one of which was a friend - that was too much. She didn’t want to think about how that explained a little too much about Jason’s behavior. About how under these circumstances, it made complete sense.

Frank looked to Bob, which wasn’t at all helpful. It meant that Frank had no idea what to do, either. They had spent their lives hunting supernatural creatures, and here the creatures were as the victims. Let them go, and they might need to be hunted down later.

“Fuck it,” Bob said. He strode over to the nearest cage and unlocked it.

Frank glowered at Bob for a moment before he helped out, unlocking cages.

Taylor waited another moment before she headed for Jason’s cage.

“Hey,” Taylor said quietly.

“Hey,” Jason echoed in a murmur.

“So,” Taylor drawled awkwardly.

“Um,” Jason said.

Taylor unlatched Jason’s cage.

“Thanks,” Jason said shakily. “The bad guy’s in the back.”

“What?” Taylor asked, alarmed.

“You’re, like, the Slayer, right?” Jason asked.

Taylor nodded slowly.

“Okay, cool, um,” Jason said. “That Baal vamp is in the back. That’s why you’re here, right?”

“You mean he wasn’t one of the…” Taylor waved a hand in the general vicinity of the entrance.

Jason shook his head, shaggy hair falling into his eyes.

“Great,” Taylor huffed. She might as well get it over with. She wasn’t even sure why Baal didn’t come out of the back when all the slaying was going on.

\- - -

When Taylor opened the back, she found out why. It was the most disturbing thing she’d ever seen: gluttony at its worse. There were corpses everywhere in various states of decay. There was blood everywhere in deep almost black globs and smears.

Baal was also covered in blood, gorging himself on… Taylor didn’t even know what. It wasn’t human, that was for sure.

“Dessert,” he said. And ew, sprayed blood all over her cardigan.

“Ew,” Taylor stated.

Baal cast aside the half dead whatever he had been bleeding out and advanced on Taylor.

Taylor’s lips curled.

“No,” Baal amended. “You’re not dessert. You’re the Slayer.”

“How does everyone know this?” Taylor demanded.

Baal advanced on Taylor. “There’s no point in fighting it,” he said. “You will be my slave.”

“You mean like all the creatures you had out in the cages that we just set free?” Taylor asked, her voice insincerely sweet.

“Then I will start all over again with you,” Baal stated, as if losing over fifty supernatural creatures were no big deal.

“I’d prefer that you didn’t,” Taylor said blandly.

He invaded her personal space and Taylor was definitely not okay with that. However, with the evil, nasty, big bad focused on her neck, he wouldn’t notice any other movements that Taylor happened to make. Like taking out her stake.

Bob and Frank crashed into the room and charged Baal, who batted them away with such effortless force that both Bob and Frank hit the opposite wall.

Taylor narrowed her eyes. “You hurt my friends.”

Baal raised his eyebrows and hissed at her, spraying blood into her face, which was just nasty. Taylor resisted the urge to flinch or wipe it off her face. Both would give away things she wanted to keep hidden: the fact that she had no idea what she was doing and the fact that she had a stake in her hand.

She looked quickly to Bob and Frank. They seemed okay, just banged up.

“You will enjoy being my slave and submitted to me.” He gave her the lewdest look. There was no doubt in Taylor’s mind what submission meant in this case. Nasty.

“You did not just say that,” Taylor said. Seriously. She had had enough of this banter. Was this like the super villain’s monologue? Did that seriously happen in real life?

Baal was close enough that Taylor could just thrust her stake up underneath his ribcage in one swift movement. The ash he left all over her cardigan would probably never come out though.

Frank and Bob stared at her.

“What?” she asked eventually.

“Um,” Frank said.

“What?” Taylor asked more sharply than before.

“You took out a 500 year old vamp without a fight,” Bob said.

“Why should there be a fight?” Taylor asked. “That’s stupid and wastes my time and energy. The results are still the same. It’s just more efficient.”

“They’re not all going to be this easy,” Frank warned.

“Um?”

Taylor turned around to see Jason looking on with a dazed expression.

“I, uh, kinda need a ride home,” he said.

Taylor looked to Bob, who nodded.

\- - -

The car ride was very awkward. Bob and Frank sat up front having a hushed conversation that Taylor couldn’t hear over the rush of the air around the car. Jason sat next to her in the back, and he wouldn’t stop fidgeting.

The awkwardness in the car was almost unbearable, but Taylor had no idea what to say.

“What,” Jason started. “Um, what happened? No, I don’t want to know.”

“And I don’t want to know about you being a supernatural creature,” Taylor said.

“Werewolf,” Jason mumbled.

“I said I didn’t want to know,” Taylor moaned, sinking her face into her palms. It made sense now, what that vampire minion said about her puppy.

Thankfully Bob pulled in front of Jason’s house.

“Thanks,” Jason said. “I, uh, hope never to see you guys again. But, um, Taylor? You can still tutor me, right?”

Taylor sort of squeaked out a “sure” before she had time to really think about it.

As they pulled away from the curb, Bob asked, “Where am I dropping you off?”

Taylor snorted. “I need a clean set of clothes before I go home.” Taylor needed a lot of other things. Like not to freak out about one of her friends being a werewolf.

“He’s not going to tell people about who you are, is he?” Bob asked.

“Who?” Taylor asked.

“Your friend,” Bob clarified.

“I don’t think so,” Taylor said.

“Good,” Frank said.

They drove the rest of the way to Bob and Frank’s duplex in silence.

\- - -

The next day in school was the same as it had always been. There was a pop quiz in science. The cafeteria served meatloaf that no one ever ate. No one knew that Taylor saved the day, and no one knew that Jason was a werewolf.

She received a text from Frank in Darbus’s class and almost had her phone taken away, but she carefully read the text between classes:

friends r coming up for movie join us

Taylor had no idea what that meant. She honestly didn’t want to meet any of Bob and Frank’s friends. Not if they were all like Bob and Frank – the hunting part. Or the personality part for Frank.

Bob called her later that day to explain that their friends were coming up, and one of the friends – Gerard – was supposed to help Taylor unlearn all the false facts she’d learned about supernatural creatures.

And Frank explained that there was another vampire plot to take over the world.

Taylor supposed there would always be a vampire plot to take over the world. Otherwise there would only have been one, original Slayer. But here she was, the Slayer, and she had a job to do.

End!


End file.
